DilfLover

thinking about sitting on jack abbot’s thigh, lazily rolling your hips and leaning into his chest, just enough for stimulation but not enough to actually get anywhere.

jack’s wearing his dumb cargo pants, his work phone shoved in the pocket you’re currently sitting on. you learn rather quickly that jack (the old man he is) has his phone set to vibrate. you also learn that someone is very intent on getting a hold of him.

jack realizes his phone is trapped under you, undulating and grinding into the new sensation. grins when he discovers, yes, you are wanton enough to treat his vibrating phone like a pseudo sex toy, grinding harder every time a call or text comes through.

“i should probably get that.” he murmurs, not actually making any effort to dislodge you from his thigh. you just double down, arms around his neck, pussy directly on his dumb cargo pants that you hate so much, clit catching on the rough fabric and the corner of his phone, chasing the periodic vibrations.

“gonna let me get that baby?” he teases, grabbing your hips to lift you up. you retaliate by sinking your teeth into his shoulder, fighting his grip to get your wet cunt back on his thigh.

“oh, she’s feral today,” he comments, smacking your ass once in response to the bite - jack knows it’s gonna leave a mark.

you don’t even react, focused on wiggling your way back down onto his thigh and phone, which is still vibrating through his pants. you were so close, and jack is being so mean, making you hover over the embarrassingly large wet spot you left behind.

“you’re gonna water log my phone,” jack notes, following your eyes to the wet patch. “gonna have to stick it in rice after this. how am i gonna explain to IT that my work phone is broken? tell them it’s because i have a very demanding little girl at home with the world’s wettest cunt? and that she sat on my phone like a little slut, using the vibrations to get off?” jack paused, grinning at the long whine you made, embarrassed and turned on by the idea, hips still wiggling. “is that what i’m gonna have to tell them?”

you don’t respond, mainly because you’re not sure if you can form words at this point, and finally win the war against his grip to drop back down to his thigh, cunt once again pressed hard onto the cargo pocket. you immediately start humping, only further proving jack’s point. you don’t care - you’re so close.

jack leans forward, stubble brushing your ear as he growls, “maybe i should make you tell them. call them and apologize for ruining my phone with your wet, selfish cunt. what do you think about that?”

you come - embarrassingly hard, hips stuttering against him as you continue to soak his pants, vaguely aware that jack is cooing and encouraging you as you do so.

“atta girl, so easy for me. coming just from a few calls and texts from robby,” jack rubs your back, letting you collapse into his shoulder, bright with embarrassment and exhaustion.

after a couple of minutes, jack works his hand into his pocket, slowly removing his phone, making a point to wipe the sheen off on his shirt before checking it.

[I love your blog, hope you likes this]

woooahhh this is soooo buzzy!!

warning: this is icky!! icky icky icky!! dumbification lowk, reader is naive as hell. robby is manipulative asf!! be warned.

helping out stepdad!robby in the bath.

“i’m sorry angel. it’s just a natural reaction to you makin’ me feel good, think you could help dad out with this too?” robby knows he’s pushing his luck, but he also knows how devoted you are, how much you love your step daddy, how you’d do anything for him.

“i uh-i guess…how?” you’re all innocent eyes and shy smiles as you look up at him from your position kneeling on the floor beside the tub, loofah now discarded to the side.

one of robby’s favorite things about you is how you’re a deep sleeper. you’re so pretty when you’re asleep. all pliant and fuckable. so easy to take advantage of. your pussy responsive when he touches you, getting all puffy and wet, your clit aching to be touched. you don’t even wake up when he puts his mouth on you and works you until you’re dripping wet, or when daddy starts rubbing the tip against your slit…

you’re deep asleep and dreaming of school, but suddenly you’re waking up, and robby’s on top of you, one arm around you to hold you close, his mouth kissing your neck and there’s a feeling of fullness between your legs. you blink a few times, trying to understand what’s happening.

“morning, kiddo,” he murmurs against your skin, moving his hips, and fuck, that fullness is his cock. he must’ve entered you while you were asleep. he’s already fucking you with his entire length which means he’s taken the time to have stretched you open so you can fit his huge cock

“daddy?” you whisper through a yawn. “what-”

“you looked cute, baby, i couldn’t resist you.” he says, lifting his head up to look at you as he keeps slowly fucking you, all his weight on your smaller body, his huge cock sliding in and out of your cunt

“oh?” you gasp, your pussy drenched for him, and you think you might orgasm soon

“yeah, cutest thing i’ve ever seen.” he keeps thrusting inside you, “thought you’d like waking up like this”

“mm, daddy,” you moan

he grins possessively and kisses your lips, making out sloppily with you. you can taste yourself on him, but you don’t remember him eating you out

all you can do now is nod, needy little moans as your orgasm builds. this usually takes a while, so he must’ve been teasing you and fucking you for a long time before you woke up. that thought makes you even wetter. you lying there asleep and unmoving while robby pushed his big cock inside you, inch by inch

“yeah, little one, you like this, don’t you?” robby murmurs, watching you closely as he pumps in and out of you, so much wetness between your bodies as you get even more aroused

“mhm,” you mumble, but it’s too much, you’re too close. everything feels amazing. robby’s weight on you, huge cock inside you, eyes watching, mouth close to yours.

your orgasm crashes over you making you gasp and moan around his cock, your pussy squeezing it tight as pleasure rushed through you

“that’s it, kiddo,” robby moans with you, loving to watch you come undone. “come for daddy”

you make another loud moan and collapse back into the bed, letting him fuck you and soon he’s cumming too, filling you with his thick cum within minutes of you waking up

“good girl, kiddo. you did so well,” he praises you while peppering kisses to nose and jaw. he stays inside you and while normally he’d be softening, you swear he’s still hard. at least, you still feel full. “i wish i could be inside you always”

“mm” you mumble, sleepy now after your orgasm. “me too, daddy”

“gonna stay now,” he warns as your eyes blink rapidly as you fight sleep

thinking about seeing robby in secret and teasing the hell out of him on shift. robby groaning his usual disgruntled “fuck me” after dealing with a particularly frustrating patient to which you cheekily mutter, “i mean…” with other doctors in earshot. robby’d just look at you with a face akin to disbelief, though this wasn’t the first time you’d hinted at your secret arrangement just to fuck with him, so that wasn’t quite right. the look was more predatory than anything.

so that little comment would end with you bent over the breakroom counter while he bullied his large cock into your pussy, groaning at how well you clenched around him. he seldom fucked you on shift for fear of getting caught, but he was not past putting you back in your place when you were clearly in need of it.

“robby, mmph, s- slow down! too big,” you whined helplessly, his heavy balls slapping your ass with every thrust. robby covered your mouth with his hand, sticking two fingers down your throat. “ah-ah, baby. you were asking for this, weren’t you, baby? you wanted my big cock. now take what i fucking give you.”

you could only whimper and submit to him as he pounded you into the counter, efforts nothing short of relentless until he was cumming into your pussy, pulling you in by the waist to make sure you took every drop. robby wasn’t usually a quickie kind of guy, but certain circumstances allowed for it.

he leaned over your shoulder and spoke right into your ear, placing his hand on your neck not to squeeze but to warn. “you gonna behave the rest of my shift, baby?” he rasped, to which you nodded. “yeah? gonna be my good girl again?”

“m- mhm. so good, robby, promise,” you said meekly, too fucked-out to speak any louder. robby pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, a stark contrast to his earlier ministrations.

“there’s a girl. now, clean yourself up, honey. we’ve got a job to do.”

the way he’d look at you before absolutely destroying your pussy ‹𝟹

── Jack Abbot x Robbydaughter! reader

synopsis Jack was just looking for an easy night, a quiet drink, but what he finds is so much better. You, sat in a seat that's his, fresh, new and young to the area, starting a new job with your dad. Jack just didn't think to ask the right questions... (5.2k words)

warning Smut MDNI! younger reader, older jack! Robby's daughter reader! oral (f receiving!) making out, language, protected p in v, dirty talk, praise king, reader is described to have longish hair, reader calls jack solider, peep the quin audio hints

authornotei locked tf in with this if i do say so myself. had this idea sitting in my drafts had to write it, if you like i would love to do a part two, the idea of dads best friend has me with a chokehold. i made up a small, tiny backstory for jack as we know so little. the beautiful jack gif credits go to @lovebugism (her fics are so good !!!!!)

pitt masterlist! another Jack fic!

Jack didn't have a specific place at the bar, but everyone knew where he sat. He got half way across the bar, dragging himself across the sticky floor before he realised there was someone else sitting in his seat. He could tell it was his stool from the slight wobble it gave side to side, and he could tell it was a young woman sitting in his seat from the sound of her laugh.

Terry, his favourite bar tender who'd seen him at his worst and best, caught a look at him and grinned.

“Hey! Just the guy I was talking about!”

and SOMEHOW robby finds out and now he HAS to do something about it?

-M 💋

~ Bathroom Break ~ [Michael Robinavitch x Dennis Whitaker]

“Your protégé just booked it into the bathroom. You should check on him.”

“What are you talking about?”

Dana nodded her blonde head towards the rear hallway. “You know, your Langdon-replacement. Whitaker,” the charge nurse elaborated with a sigh when she realized she was going to have to spoon-feed the ER Chief as usual. “He looked panicked and sweaty. He’s been weird all day. He just ran off to the bathroom. You should check on him, Chief.” She wielded the title like a trump card, like a ‘not-it’ card. 

Robby sighed and looked off in the direction of the single-person bathrooms down the hall. “Alright, cover me for a few.”

Dana looked up at the board, completely unconcerned. She’d been running this place before he’d graduated med school. “Aye-aye, Captain.” 

--------------------

Whitaker pushed into the bathroom, sweat covering his brow- in such a hurry he forgot to lock the door behind him.

‘Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…’ Dennis’ brain grasped automatically, desperately for his upbringing, praying for strength as his dick strained against the fabric of his scrubs.

Robby.

Dr. Michael Robinavitch was going to be the death of him. 

It’d been three weeks. Three torturous weeks of working under the Chief of the ED at PTMC. 

Dennis knows he’s gay. Has known since he couldn’t stop staring at the rodeo cowboys in their tight Levis and leathers in Broken Bow, Nebraska. But he’s not there anymore. He’d had a few secretive tumbles with other boys at the time. But he was a student doctor now. He was going to make a name for himself. A real living outside of the family farm. 

He’d moved in with Dr. Trinity Santos who was also gay and encouraging him to embrace his inner “baby gay” or whatever she called him. Honestly, he was still a little frightened of her and whoever Krav Maga was…

But he was determined to start a new life for himself. An honest one.

And then Dr. Robby happened.

He’d had crushes before. Of course he had. That wasn’t special. So Robby was tall. And broad. And, like, twenty years his senior. So what? Authority complexes were like half the searches on PornHub.

Except Dennis was so touch-starved. So. So. Touch starved. And Robby, gosh-dang him, was like dangling a moth to a flame. In the past few weeks he’d had his hands on Dennis’ shoulders/arms/hands/back-of-neck/wrist/lower-back/bicep/etc. etc. freaking etc. 

Dennis was losing his ever-loving mind. 

Because, damn it, Robby was handsome too. So handsome. He knew Robby was older. In his 50s. That should have turned him off. The preacher at home was 55 and Dennis couldn’t imagine hugging him let alone wanting to see him out of his pastoral robes…

And yet every thought of Robby made Dennis’ dick jump.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners…,” Dennis chanted under his breath, willing his straining dick to go down. His forehead was pressed to the brick wall, painted over white as a virgin and cool against his burning skin. 

He hadn’t masturbated in weeks. It wasn’t right. He shouldn’t. That was a sin. His mother had told him he’d go blind if he masturbated too often. And God was always watching….

So he didn’t touch himself. Didn’t dare. 

It hadn’t been a problem, not really for awhile. There were other attractive guys in his classes, but he was so busy with school and work he didn’t really have time for all of that.

Or so he’d thought.

And then Robby happened.

And now, three weeks later, he was practically cumming in his pants because Robby squeezed him on the shoulder, his broad chest pressing into Dennis’ back after a successful intubation. 

“Good job, kid,” Robby’s voice breathed into his ear, husky and deep, scraping against every nerve that was already adrenaline-soaked. 

Dennis had had to get out of there. Stat.

It didn’t help that the laundry service was out. They’d run out of XL scrubs apparently. So Robby had to wear a regular large. Which he’d told a humorous anecdote about at the start of rounds today.

Whitaker couldn’t recall much of what he’d said.

He’d been too caught up in the way the too-small scrubs hugged Robbys’ biceps, the way the fabric strained against his rum-barrel chest, his stomach. All 6’1 and 250 pounds of Dr. Robby constrained in a large scrub uniform.

The devil was surely having a laugh.

Dennis had had to escape by the third hour when Robby had come out of a room, sweaty and heaving from performing CPR. It was wrong. So, so, so, wrong to be thinking of Robby in that way in a time like that. And yet…

Here Whitaker was. Dick straining. It’d been weeks of denying himself. He’d been stupid. So stupid. He shoved his scrub pants down and took himself in hand next to the toilet, rationalizing that if he didn’t, he was bound to sport a stiffy at a truly inappropriate time in front of a patient.

Jacking off was basically medicinal at this point.

He was so caught up he didn’t hear the door open or the metallic lock slip into place.

It was a single use bathroom with a sink, a urinal, and one stall. Meant for one. And now there was two.

“I’m not sure this is an appropriate use of hospital time,” a deep voice boomed.

Chief of the ED and everyone’s direct Attending, Dr. Michael Robinavitch was somehow - suddenly - impossibly - standing in the stall with a partially naked Dennis Whitaker.

Dennis' soul nearly left his body. Like a cartoon cat on ice, he scrambled to shove himself back into his pants, cheeks flaming hot all the way to his toes. He spun around. “It’s not what it looks like! I swear I’m not - I promise - ”

“How often do you masturbate?”

Whitaker’s brain struggled to comprehend the question for a minute. But Robby was staring down at him, simply as a professor waiting for him to answer a question in lecture.

“I’m sorry?” he choked out.

Robby’s hands clasped behind his back, his eyes glancing at Dennis’ crotch and then back up, like he was regarding a lab specimen. “Masturbating. Wanking. Beating off. Whatever you kids are calling it these days. How often do you do it?”

Whitaker's mouth popped open. Is he serious??

His blue eyes searched his attending’s face, finding no humor or deception in the question. Is he really asking…?

He had no choice but to answer. Clearing his throat, Dennis brought a fist up to his mouth. “I - ugh - I don’t. I mean. I try not to. I try not to masturbate. It’s frowned upon. In my religion.”

Robby dragged a scrutinizing gaze up and down Whitaker’s trembling frame, his hand going to his shirt collar, dipping inside almost absently. It took Whitaker a second to recognize there was a golden chain hanging around the man’s neck that he’d never noticed before.

“Its not healthy to abstain,” Robby finally said, his voice deep and sonorous in the small bathroom. “Studies show that guys your age should masturbate 2-3 times a day for testicular heath. Haven’t you learned that in school?”

Dennis’ mouth hung open. Wha - what was Robby saying?

But Robby didn’t make him guess for long. Stepping closer, the taller man loomed over him, his too-tight scrubs straining as he crowded Dennis against the wall. Dennis stumbled backwards, hands scrambling for purchase as his back hit the wall.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

Every cell in Dennis’ body froze. “I haven’t - I don’t - ”

Robby shook his head, forcing Dennis into silence as his larger frame pressed closer, bullying him for space. “I’ve been doing this a long time, kid. I know how you look at me."

Dennis’ tongue darted out to wet his thin lips, his heart hammering a million miles an hour in his chest. Was this a test? Would he fail for lying? Or for telling the truth?

“Take your dick back out.”

Dennis choked on his spit. “Sorry, what?”

Robby nodded down at him. “You heard me. Take your dick back out. Now.” 

Dennis stared at him wide-eyed and disbelieving. But Robby, brown eyes serious and calm, like he’d just instructed him to present a patient, didn’t even blink.

Hesitantly, Whitaker reached for the hem of his scrub pants.

Oh my God, is this happening? Is this really happening??

But Robby just watched, nodding approvingly when Dennis released himself from his pants. His cock wasn’t huge but it wasn’t small either, the pale flesh half-hard in the fluorescent bathroom lighting. 

“Stroke yourself,” Robby instructed.

Dennis’ heart stuttered. Surely he wasn’t serious…

“Now. Don’t make me repeat myself Whitaker,” Robby said, growing impatient.

Automatically, Dennis began stroking himself again, giving in easily to the command. His eyes rolled back as his head fell against the cool brick wall. Fuck. This was so messed up. So wrong. So - so -

So fucking hot. 

“Slower. Lighter. Don’t work yourself so hard.”

Suddenly, Robby’s hand was on his shoulder. He spun Dennis around so that Dennis was facing the wall again. He stumbled but righted himself, his hand eagerly still stroking himself. 

Dennis groaned, pressing his forehead to the wall, his hand fighting to obey Robby’s words. “But I need - ”

“Nothing,” Robby cut in, the hull of his chest suddenly pressing into Dennis’ slender back. Steering. Invading. His mouth at the boy’s ear, hot and wet. “You need nothing. You want nothing. I tell you what you need. I tell you what you want. Understood.”

Dennis’ hand stretched achingly slow across his dick skin; he bit his lip and nodded. “Ye - yes. Yes. Whatever you say, sir.”

The moniker slipped out, easy and natural. Eyes blooming with panic, Whitaker thought to take it back- but a low, pleased hum resonated from Robby.

“Good boy.”

Dennis’ knees buckled at the praise. A strong arm caught him ‘round the middle, straightening him. “Spread your legs.” Sneakered-feet kicked at his own. “Wider.” Dennis slid his legs wider. “Wider.” Breathing in deep, Dennis shifted out wider, feeling the strain in his groin. “Wider,” the voice demanded in his ear.

Dennis spread his legs as wide as he could, hips and joints straining hard as he leaned forward onto the wall for support. He wasn’t flexible, not really. Trinity tried to get him to do yoga in the mornings and he wished he’d invested more time now.

The over-extended stretch sent a zing through his groin, past his taint, all the way to his hole. God it was uncomfortab -

A sudden pressure at his backside had Dennis groaning and slamming a hand into the wall to keep himself upright. 

Robby’s cock pressed into his spread cheeks.

“Oh, oh, fu-“ Dennis choked out half a whine. 

He hadn’t heard the whizz of Robby’s zipper, the shuffle of fabric. Robby’s cock was still sheathed by his underwear, but Dennis could still feel the sheer weight of it straining against him.

Dear God, Robby had to be massive. 

Without thought, Dennis’ hips bucked backwards, seeking more pressure. There was no way he could take Robby. Not like this. Not without prep. The man had to be huge. But jesusgod did he want to. 

A pathetic, desperate sound escaped Dennis’ lips. 

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” Gravel and grit growled in his ear.

Dennis could only nod pathetically as Robby rocked slowly into him, the breadth of his cock-head brushing his hole. He felt his hole expand behind the dual-layer of fabric. It begged to be stretched, to be filled and punished by his attending.

“Please, please,” Dennis moaned, his hand forcibly slow on his cock.

Robby’s breath came out steady and hot against his neck. “I wouldn’t want you to suffer from epididymal hypertension,” Robby teased. 

Dennis would have laughed if his brain wasn’t soaked with longing. The medical term for Blue Balls. Fuck Robby and his humor right now. Dennis was dying. 

Before Dennis could protest, Robby grabbed his slim hips, pressing his groin forward, forcing his cheeks painfully apart. “Stroke harder. Faster. Do it. Stroke in time with your heartbeat. I’ll know if you’re wrong.”

A sudden pressure at his carotid had Dennis gasping. A large hand wrapped around his throat from behind, Robby’s fingers probing the side of his neck, pressing in hard.

Dennis could feel his heartbeat in his cock.

“Faster, Whitaker. That’s too slow.”

Dennis immediately started stroking harder. He had no idea how to keep his hand strokes in time with his heartbeat, which felt like it was going a million miles a minute. But Robby was rocking hard against him from behind and so he picked up his pace, stroking furiously. 

“Faster. Faster. Faster. That’s it. Let go, Whitaker. Just like that. Let it all go.”

The press of Robby’s thick cock, precum soaking through the fabric of both their underwear caused the friction to rub tantalizing against Dennis’ sensitive hole. 

Back. Forth. In. Out. Scraaaaape.

“I’m gonna - oh, god, I’m gonna cu- ”

“Do it. Coat the wall. Cum for me. Now.”

Whitaker came hard. Hips jerking, cum shooting and spraying against the wall. The scent of salt and sweat filled the small bathroom.

Panting, hot and hard, Whitaker melted forward. It was only Robby’s strong arm wrapping around from behind him that kept him from collapsing to the ground.

It took a couple minutes, and Robby murmured a couple things in his ear Dennis wouldn’t remember, for him to gather himself. When he was able to keep his feet under him, Robby let him go.

“Clean that up,” Robby instructed calmly, nodding at the mess Dennis had made on the bathroom wall.

Whitaker nodded, boneless but mostly coherent now.

Until he noticed - 

“Wait. You didn’t - you still need - ”

Robby was stuffing his still-hard cock back into his pants.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. I’ve handled worse.”

Embarrassment and longing flushed hot and fast through Dennis. Robby hadn’t cum. He hadn’t made him cum. Every cell in his body ached to drop to his knees. To take Robby’s fat cock in his mouth. He hadn’t even seen it yet and he knew it was going to be beautiful. He’d let Robby smack it against his face, would let him smear his cum all over him, would let him fuck the back of his throat like a pussy if that’s what Robby wanted.

A keen escaped the back of his throat as his mouth salivated, staring at the diminishing tent in the older man’s pants. Oh, shit. His knees shook. He wanted Robby to use him so badly - 

A sharp but gentle smack to his cheek drew Dennis back to reality.

“812 Plaza Drive. 9pm. You can make it up to me. Don’t be late, kid.” 

Robby winked and then was gone, pushing out of the bathroom door without a care in the world.

Dennis gaped after him. 

Oh, God. Fuck.

He was so fucked. 

Because it might very well be that he’s not in love with Robby -that his is just a small, trivial, truly tiny crush- but what if your crush touches you in bed as if you were the most precious thing in the world and fucks you as if it were the last time on earth?

Well, yeah, Dennis isn't exactly the brightest guy, but he doesn't feel like blaming himself entirely either, because when Robby looks at him, smiles, puts a hand on his shoulder, or talks about a friends with benefits arrangement, Dennis's brain just shuts down. How can you blame him?

And how can he keep his crush from turning into something more when Robby’s hands grab his hips and slam him onto the mattress, ordering him to stay still with that low, hoarse voice, full of control, that makes Dennis tremble right to the center of his chest?

How can he avoid becoming dependent on this man when Robby is dissecting him piece by piece, stripping him of every coherent thought, and drawing him into a world that Dennis has never known before meeting him?

How can he keep his word when all the relationships (few, brief, fleeting) he had before Robby didn't have even a tenth of the intensity he feels for him?

Dennis is trembling, moaning; he knows he’s begging to come while Robby tells him no, while Robby brings him so close that Dennis gasps harder and feels his muscles twitch, but then he stops, and Dennis doesn’t know how he has all this self-control -he doesn’t know how Robby manages to stay still, just a few beads of sweat on his temples and down his neck, while Dennis is literally trembling and begging- but Robby looks at him with deep eyes and an adoring smile, and Jesus fuck, how the hell could Dennis possibly remain unaffected?

“Please, please, please,” Dennis pleads again, because Robby has been going at it for hours, and Dennis is sure that soon he’ll have no breath left in his lungs and that tomorrow he won’t even be able to walk.

But Robby is relentless, and he starts all over again, pushing him to the brink of the abyss and pulling him back, and so on for who knows how many times, until finally Dennis comes, his voice choked off -almost a hiss- because he’s been begging for so long that he’s lost his voice.

And Dennis’s mind suddenly goes silent.

He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know where he is, he can no longer feel the tips of his fingers or toes -he only knows that it feels like he’s been coming for an endless time, his abs are contracting, and Dennis is crying- out of relief, out of loss, because it’s the most beautiful moment of his entire life—and his ears are ringing, and Dennis doesn’t know where he is, but he knows he’s safe, that he’s protected, that he feels wonderful, and that he can rest.

Dennis comes to -he doesn’t even know how much time has passed- all he knows is that his body feels heavy, that his mind is still foggy, and that Robby is holding him close and whispering things that Dennis would like to hear for the rest of his life.

You did so good, sweetheart.

So precious.

Everything is okay, you are okay, I got you.

And Dennis knows he should say something, respond, get up, go wash up, and leave like he does every single time, but Dennis also feels like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears, and he doesn’t want to leave the spot next to Robby, and when Robby starts to move, Dennis clings to him with all his might.

“I’m just going to get a towel to clean you up.”

But Dennis shakes his head, opens his mouth to beg him not to go, to beg him to stay, but nothing comes out except a sob. And Dennis cries. And he’s mortified because what’s going on? But Robby doesn’t seem upset by it; on the contrary, he settles himself more comfortably in bed and pulls Dennis close, Dennis’s face nestled in the crook of Robby’s neck as he cries as if there were no tomorrow, and Robby strokes his back, his hair, kisses his forehead, whispers sweet words that Dennis wants to engrave in his heart, and doesn’t let him go for even a moment.

It wasn't until many hours later that Dennis woke up in the middle of the night and realized he was still at Robby's house, in his bed, resting against his chest as it rose and fell, and Dennis realized he must have fallen asleep at some point and, horrified, began to panic.

Because they don't do those kinds of things. Because Dennis doesn't stay over at Robby's, because as soon as they're done, Dennis leaves, because he doesn't want to impose himself, even though Robby very often asks him to stay for dinner or to stay and watch a movie -but Dennis knows Robby is just too kind to tell him to leave- and so now Dennis has absolutely no idea what to do.

It’s warm in Robby’s bed. It feels comfortable, and Robby’s chest rising and falling lulls him back to sleep, and Dennis doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do -get dressed and leave in the middle of the night? He doesn’t even know what time it is; he doesn’t even know where his clothes are, and he’d have to feel around for them. Maybe he could manage it; he doesn’t want to disturb Robby, but if-

“Go back to sleep”

Robby’s voice is hoarse from sleep and so close to Dennis’s ear that he feels himself shiver. And maybe that’s the right moment to pull away from Robby and give him some space and-

But Robby wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him closer -as if that were even possible- buries his nose in Dennis’s hair, and lets out such a deep sigh that when the air leaves his mouth, he seems to relax completely, as if having Dennis right there beside him helps him feel more at ease.

Dennis really can’t stay. If he’s having such stupid thoughts now, there’s no way he won’t find himself completely in love with his attending in less than a week.

But he can’t bring himself to leave. It’s already too much for him.

“Robby…” Dennis whispers against Robby’s chest, the hair on his chest tickling Dennis’s cheek.

"Mh?"

Dennis touches one of his pecs, plays with the chain Robby wears even while he sleeps, runs his fingers through his chest hair, and thinks that maybe this will be the last time he’ll be able to do something like this.

“I’m an idiot,” and he knows Robby will understand because Robby always understands everything.

Robby makes a sound of agreement that reverberates in his throat, and Dennis can hear it right next to his ear.

Robby holds him a little tighter.

That's why he decided to date people closer to his age range, or whatever fucked-up version of dating that he had going on ever since Janey broke up with him and Heather left.

Dennis Whitaker is, undoubtedly, far too young for Robby —hell, he could be very well be the kid's father. Not only that, but he had been a med student doing his rotation at the pitt not so long ago, he still is an intern there, working under Robby.

And yet, that didn't stop Robby from falling into bed with him. Well, he told himself, he was already beyond fucked up, what's a bit more? Besides, Dennis would soon realize how old and damaged Robby was when compared to his youthful self, and he would leave rather quickly.

But, if anything, Dennis seemed to grow more comfortable with Robby every single day, even the things about his age that he despised, Dennis seemed to love them. Whenever Robby got up from the couch with a grunt, there was Dennis, looking at him with dark eyes and biting his lip. If Robby used his glasses to read something, half of the time Dennis would sit on his lap and kiss him hungrily.

The most obvious thing was with the sex. Robby had been embarrassed at first, surely Dennis could find someone who would match his stamina and desire better — not that Robby didn't want him, but he was aware of his limitations. However, the first night he couldn't get it up, despite Dennis looking up at him with those big eyes and his tempting body shivering under his hands, the younger man hadn't protested at al. Instead, he had pushed Robby down into the mattress, kissed all over his body before settling in between his legs, and then taking his flaccid cock on his mouth for what felt like hours. Robby had to nudge him awake because Dennis had snoozed off with it still in his mouth, sucking sleeply and comfortable.

Now, whenever they're at work and he sees Dennis biting a pen absently, his cock gives a valiant twitch inside his pants, remembering how warm and wet that soft mouth of his feels.

it doesn't count, baby, remember? m not even moving, see... that's not sex, baby, just keeping me warm... it's doubly not sex because I'm not even touching your penis, baby. doesn't count, sweetheart. promise. murmured as he eases all in the way in and stills, taking that tight little ass for the first time, muffling a groan so he doesn't scare the poor, trembling lamb off. it's velvety lube-slick bliss, and he's sure it burns for dennis, robby rushed through the sinful prep of it all with babbled excuses.

dennis is panting, poor thing, stomach clenching, probably feeling more pleasure than he's ever felt in his life. his protests are weak, his eyes are teary, and robby can see the fucking guilt in them, loves every bit of it. I really think we sh-should— unnghh, we should sto-op, right? it's, it's different, cause you— m'not supposed to—

different cause I'm a man? not supposed to what, take it up the ass? that makes you a faggot, right? robby scoffs, rocks his hips juuust a little, enough to make the poor thing whimper and jerk, glowing with sweat-sheen and so so pretty. all filled up. his reddened cock jerks against his stomach, neglected. robby won't touch it. doesn't count if he doesn't touch it. shh, kid, just let it feel good. m'not stopping.

I LOVE IT (sorry if I was dry/ dead in my ask '_')

🪦💬

Honestly this is probably my favourite thing to write at the moment. Also NEVER apologise for giving me ideas anon.

It was a rare day both of his boyfriends had the day off with him. Dennis had been in euphoria all day cuddling close to Robby, watching football with Jack. Realistically there was nothing to get horny over. The men had been nothing but sweet and attentive all day. Just a wholesome afternoon, ruined by Dennis's stupid libido.

He tried to ignore it as much as possible, he ignored the twitching of his clit when Robby ran a hand over his thigh. Ignored the sudden wetness in his underwear when Jack kissed his hand softly. Ignoring it wasn't working, it just caused the boy to squirm in his seat rubbing his legs together. Excusing himself to the bathroom proved harder than expected. Both his boyfriend's whining at him to stay that he could wait just a few more minutes. It took 5 whole minutes to peel himself away, his clit pulsing painfully.

Wasting no time Dennis locked the bathroom door and shoved his pants down, gazing at the mess between his thighs. Dipping his hand down to touch and running a finger through his slit. Biting his bottom lip to muffle his sounds as he plunged a finger into himself. Dennis had to be quick, had to be discreet. Moving his hand quickly, barely chasing pleasure just focused on making himself cum as quickly as possible. It should have taken 3 minutes at most he could be a quick shot if needed. 10 minutes later dennis found himself still chasing an orgasm.

Letting out quiet whines as he rubbed his clit with his palm fingers curling. "dennis are you ok in there?" Jacks gruff voice cut through the haze of pleasure. He should have stopped Dennis knows that, should have washed his soaked hands and cleaned himself up as quickly as he could. Instead his hand sped up as he let out a sharp gasp.

"Y-yeah i'm fi- fine." voice shaky and breathless as his peak hit. Yelping as he squirted over his hand and the tiles of the bathroom. Probably the best orgasm he'd ever given himself.